Obsidian & Bronze {Fred Weasley}

31. Changed

It may have taken a spiralling series of hapless events to lead me to such a realisation, but in spite of how I got to where I did, it's important to note that along the way I learnt two very important lessons:

The first of which being, that small moments, despite their intent or nature, despite who instigated them and despite their initial objective, can be life altering. Bad choices often sow the seed for something good, and sometimes good choices sow the seed for something bad. Life's ironic like that. But the worst of all is that moments in which you assume will bring everyone together, can often be exactly what tears everyone apart.

The second thing I've learnt, keeping the first lesson in mind, is that often these life altering moments become irrelevant, their repercussions no longer suffocating, the intent is disregarded and their nature is forgotten, it all becomes simply meaningless.

I don't think people realise until it's too late, that in fact it is not the moment itself that breaks you, or defines you, or changes you, but in fact it's who's doing the breaking that causes the most damage. Because despite what they say, everyone playing the game is always in it for themselves.

I just wish I didn't have to find that out the way that I did.

After the accident, I awoke in a room unlike one I'd ever seen before, the lights were harsh and piercing and every surface was distastefully white, almost clinical, as the bitter scent of bleach stood prominent in the air.

A large window sat on the opposing wall, the golden rays of sunrise leaking through the glass, spilling warm amber shadows across the tiled floor, although in spite of its vibrancy, it drew in a dry and bitter breeze that counteracted the warmth of the iridescent, yellow light.

There was a glass door in the furthest corner of the room, a criss cross pattern etched across the surface of the glass, although that didn't disrupt my ability to see right through it, out into a long corridor, the interior of which not much different to the room I was in, abnormally bright and clinical, although it seemed to be swarmed with activity as people passed briskly in and out of view.

To the right of my bed, just beyond a very uncomfortable looking chair littered with blankets and cushions, was a white door leading to what I could only assume was a bathroom, and just as quickly as I noted the red symbol just below the lock, indicating it was engaged, the muffled sound of a toilet flushing resonated through the room and the door began to creak open.

"Tonks?" I questioned groggily, my throat agonisingly dry and raw, as I began blinking repeatedly to awaken my tired eyes and bringing myself into a seated position.

Tonks whipped her head around furiously at the sound of my voice, her tired and sunken eyes immediately lightening up and a beaming smile, one which appeared long overdue, spread itself across her face.

"You're awake" She exclaimed, throwing herself onto the bed and engulfing me into an almost painful, bone crushing embrace, although it was a nice contrast to the numbing pain lingering inside me.

Tonks sat up, brushing my hair frantically out of my face to gain a better look at me as she rested her hands either side of my cheeks, smiling down at me with tears welling in her eyes, "We thought we'd lost you" She sobbed, pulling me back into her arms, although this time it was softer, more delicate.

Never, in my sixteen, almost seventeen, years of existence, living through a war, the loss of family, the chaos of the world slowly closing in on us, the misguidance and abandonment we faced from so young, as we fought to survive, had I ever seen Nymphadora Tonks cry.

It wasn't the sign of weakness I think she believed it was, in fact it was quite the opposite, never did she radiate such strength.

"I'm okay" I sobbed back, suddenly overcome with emotion, my head beginning to throb and my heart growing heavy as I looked around the room over Tonk's shoulder, my breathing growing laboured and my body beginning to tremble. "Tonks, where are we? Where's Fred? Is he okay? Where's dad?"